


Snowballs at Fullerton

by quilleth



Category: Northanger Abbey - Jane Austen
Genre: Fluff, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:00:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21840895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quilleth/pseuds/quilleth
Summary: Catherine and Henry enjoy a winter visit to Fullerton and lose a snowball fight
Relationships: Catherine Morland/Henry Tilney
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Snowballs at Fullerton

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greyathena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyathena/gifts).



Fullerton in the winter was about as cheerful a sight as nearly any other town in winter, but this year, Catherine was convinced there was something a little brighter, a little cheerier, about her much loved hometown that made it much nicer to visit. Distance had certainly given her more appreciation for the home she had grown up in, though as she walked the snow covered path with her arm linked through Henry’s, she thought Woodston was far superior, and voiced as much, “It is lovely to see my family again, but I find that I am eager to return home, to Woodston as well. How odd it is to have looked so forward to visiting, yet now that we have been here, I long to be home again!”  


Henry laughed and smiled down at her, “Yes, odd indeed, for I remember you saying just the other day that you were desperate to see your many siblings again, especially to know if little George and Harriet had at last mastered their letters.”  


“Well, I really was wondering if they had finished learning them or not! Mama spends so much of her time teaching the little ones. And Sarah has now insisted on being called Sally again, and Jack is going off to school soon. So much is changing with them all, and I’m not here to see it. Which feels strange, like I’m not really a part of the family anymore, but I don’t necessarily mind it either, because I’m kept so busy at home in Woodston taking care of matters there and visiting the parishioners with you. I do worry about James though; he still seems so upset about Isabella.”  


“I am sure your brother will recover well enough, with time.”  


“But it has been so long already!” Catherine protested. What promised to become an earnest conversation full of sibling concern was abruptly interrupted as something hit each of their backs—something soft and if the shiver it caused Catherine was any judge to go by, cold. They both turned, laughter in Henry's eyes and indignation in Catherine’s. Spotting one of her younger brothers dusting snow off his mittens, Catherine demanded, “William! What was that for?!” She realized that her brother was not alone; she and Henry had in fact acquired a gaggle of young children followers during the course of their walk, all of whom giggled at her, perhaps encouraged by the wink Henry gave them while Catherine was distracted.  


The brother in question grinned a gap-toothed challenge and retorted with all the confidence his eight years could afford, “Well, you weren’t paying attention, and you can’t do anything about it anyway! You’re all grown up and married now.”  


“Are you saying I won’t get you back?”  


“’Course you won’t! Married people just sit around reading papers and talking about the weather and Sunday roasts and boring stuff like that,” another sibling chimed in.  


“Did you hear that, my dear? I do believe your siblings think we’re old and boring,” Henry said, trying very hard not to laugh. He caught Catherine’s gaze, noting that she already had a little mound of snow in her hands. “What do you think, shall we show them otherwise?”  


“Well,” Catherine said philosophically, “I never did mind a little dirt.” She smiled back at him, admiring he way the snowflakes were sticking to his hair before agreeing, “Yes I think we should,” the snowball leaving her hands before she finished speaking.  


Her siblings squealed and tried to scatter, each diving for a patch of snow to retaliate. Soon the air was filled with laughter from children and adults alike. Catherine’s first snowball struck her younger brother as intended, but the snowball that hit her at the same time, thrown by a nearby Sally, was unexpected, and she shrieked in surprise. Henry laughed until a powdery ball of snow hit his shoulder, sending the frozen crystals flying into his face.  
“Oof,” he spluttered. “A good throw that, but can you beat this one?” he said, lobbing a snowball into the group of children, hitting one squarely in the chest, only to be struck by two more in return.  


“What’s all this about? Mother and Father are— hey!” James, the only one of Catherine’s older bothers to be visiting Fullerton at the time, sent to find his wayward sibling by parents who had decided he’d done enough brooding for the day, was greeted with a snowball.  


“Oops! Sorry James!” Catherine called, grinning, her hair coming down from some of its pins. “The others said we were too old and grown up for snowballs, so we just had to prove them wrong and—eep— here we all are!” She dodged a snowball thrown by Sally but skidded on the slick cobbles of the path. Righting herself with some assistance from Henry, she seized more snowing and began packing it into a ball, ignoring the damp cold creeping into her boots.  


Looking up from helping Catherine, Henry added “Won’t you join us, James? We seem to be rather outnumbered as you can see.” The group of children around them had indeed grown to include not just Catherine’s siblings, but also, he was certain, children from the neighboring houses come to join their friends in the fray or watch, delighted, as a couple of adults capered about in the snow, losing the impromptu snowball fight with aplomb.  


“Don’t you dare help them, James! After all, it was Cathy’s snowball that hit you!” Sally said from her hiding place by an enormous oak tree.  


Laughing, James replied, “You’ve all gone a little barmy haven’t you? I’m not sure I should help any of you, since Mother and Father sent me to look for you.”  


“Aw, pleeease James?” little George pleaded, and seeing James waver, followed up his advantage by throwing a snowball for good measure.  


“Georgie, you’re supposed to be throwing them at Cathy and Henry if we want James on our side!” Sally chided.  


“Well now I have no choice, do I?” James threw a snowball at Sally, who squealed and tried to dodge.  


Chaos returned to the square as snowballs once again flew pell-mell as the bout turned into everyone for themselves, James throwing a snowball at Catherine, whose retaliatory throw went wide and hit Henry instead. A scant quarter hour later, everyone was out of breath from laughing and running about in the cold, and most were covered with damp patches from melted snow when Mr. Morland himself came to find them.  


“Well, at least you are all here together,” he said mildly noting the state everyone was in. He smiled at the children that weren’t his, saying, “I’m sure your families are wondering where you are. You should head on home now.” With some grumbles and waves and promises to see their friends the next day, the small group of neighboring children dispersed, and he turned back to his children (plus Henry) and added, “Come on now, you lot. We can all have tea together before Catherine and Henry have to leave.” A chorus of protests met this announcement, to which he tutted, “Now, none of that. They’ve got a long way to go, you know, and their own responsibilities to attend to.” The merry, if bedraggled, band of valiants tagged along behind him as he headed back to the parsonage, chattering energetically despite cold noses, fingers, and toes and, even though they would never admit it, even shivering.  


As they followed, lagging behind the rest at an easy pace, Catherine’s arm once more tucked neatly into his, Henry leaned toward her to murmur, “This was nice.”  


Catherine beamed up at him, “It was, wasn’t it? I’m glad we got to come.”  


“As am I. Though, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also looking forward to the promised tea. My fingers are quite frozen! Remind me to never challenge your siblings again; none of you fight with any honor whatsoever!” Henry teased, rubbing Catherine’s hand between his own.  


“That’s not true! I only hit you on accident, and they were all just playing!”  


Henry laughed fondly, “I’m only teasing you. It was a perfectly fair snowball fight that I won’t exaggerate even in the slightest when we tell Eleanor about our visit.”  


“Yes you will!”  


“Yes, I will,” Henry agreed, kissing Catherine on the nose. “Now, let’s go get that tea before it’s as cold as I am!” He tugged on her hands, and Catherine, giggling, allowed herself to be pulled into a trot, grinning despite the cold biting at her cheeks, perfectly content.


End file.
